Love On Call

“I know, fun, huh.” Carrie’s eyes sparkled with delight. “Presley talked to the contractor who’s renovating Abby and Flann’s farmhouse. I haven’t heard the schedule yet, but if anyone can get them to run two crews at the same time, it’ll be Presley.”

“It sounds as if everyone has been here forever—Presley and Abby and you.”

Carrie ran her fingers over the top of a corduroy-covered sofa, glancing around the room. “You’ll feel the same way soon, like you’ve always been here.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Mari wasn’t ready to explain why she’d be content with satisfying work and the occasional company of friends like Carrie. She especially didn’t want to tell her newly found cousin why family was not something she wanted to count on—not for a long, long time.

Chapter Eighteen

Mari sat at one end of a semicircle of high-backed wooden rockers with Carrie, Abby, Presley, and Carson on the back porch of the big yellow farmhouse where Carrie lived with Harper and Presley. She gently pushed her pale green rocker with one foot, lulled by the early morning sun and the rhythmic to-and-fro motion. The worn-smooth seat was so comfortable she’d have sworn it had been carved specifically for her backside. She had to resist searching to see if her name was written on the chair somewhere. When she and Carrie had arrived, the others had welcomed her as if she had always been part of the group. Still, the foreignness of the landscape, with the fenced pastures and hard-packed dirt barnyard populated by chickens and a handicapped rooster who had been introduced to her as Rooster, reminded her she was still very much an outsider. Despite her lingering self-consciousness, she was happy to be there and hoped she’d one day be a real part of the group.

Carrie put her iced tea on the faded gray plank floor, opened her notebook, and balanced it on her knees. “Okay, let’s review.”

Mari smothered a smile as Carrie worked her way from person to person around the semicircle, running down their list of to-dos and ticking off all the things that had been done. She was like a general reviewing battle plans, analyzing troop movements, and shifting assignments between her officers where needed. Presley, Abby, and Carson all accepted her directions good-naturedly, including her mild admonishments when they admitted to not having yet completed all of their tasks. These women were a family, with the same kind of teasing and occasional squabbling Mari was used to at home, although she hadn’t had this many sisters. Brothers were different. As much as she loved every one of hers, they were still boys. To them, everything was a problem to be solved, and once a solution came to light, they considered the issue solved. With a quick dusting off of hands, they moved on, seemingly never troubled by the emotional consequences. Selena understood the emotional aftermath of life’s big and small moments, that even good things came at a cost and unhappy ones could linger beneath the surface for a long time. Mari missed Selena most when faced with the intimacy of others, when she remembered how close they had been and their abrupt parting. She should have been prepared for Selena’s rejection, but she’d let herself hope. Denial was such a dangerous and destructive form of self-delusion.

Selena had wanted to be a nun when she was twelve and used to play at it the way some girls played house, wearing a habit fashioned from a sheet she tied at the waist with a woven strand of hemp and a scarf wrapped around her hair to mimic a wimple. She’d outgrown the desire to be celibate and to devote herself solely to God around the time she discovered boys, but she was still devout, like their parents. Like Mari had never really been. Mari’d never thought to question the church or its dictates growing up—it was just a central focus of her life. But as she’d gotten older and begun to see herself apart in a way that other members in her family couldn’t understand, she began to wonder and question. She’d finally decided she could believe on a spiritual level even when her life was at odds with the rules and tenets of the church. She was okay with that and hoped that God was too.

Carrie flicked her pen in Mari’s direction as if it were a laser pointer. “I suppose you thought you were getting out of things.”

Caught unawares, Mari straightened on a surge of uncharacteristic panic. What had she missed while she was daydreaming about the past? “Uh, well…”

Carrie grinned. “You can be my backup in the cake and pastry department. If for some reason there’s a problem with delivery and I can’t get to it, I’ll call you.”

“Backup.” Mari sagged with relief. That couldn’t be too hard. “Sure. That sounds good.”

Presley reached across Carrie and patted Mari’s knee. “Carrie tends to be eager. You’ll get used to it after a while.”

Carrie snorted.

“I’m happy to help,” Mari said.

“Well, that’s good to hear,” Presley said, shooting a look at Abby. “Your services might be required in the future.”